The Fall Of The Neo Necropopulace
by Reso
Summary: Begins after FFVIII. Suspense Action Politics...read and review it.
1. Prologue

Prologue       

       A million had risen, a million had fallen. Like a swarm of festering cockroaches humanity had survived nuclear holocausts and famines. Survived through supernatural peril, even.

       The night cloaked the city of Balamb like a conspirational veil of beauty. Though peace was declared throughout the world, the humanity machine was still malfunctioning through internal deficits. Though Laguna isn't one to say it, drug trafficking in the Balamb suburbs has risen three-fold. Malnourished foetuses of aborted lives were sold to epileptic scientists producing an awe-inspiring defection. 

        But what is the danger of this? If a small group of warriors can defeat an otherworldly presence of omnipotent destruction, surely this disease can be cured.

        For her power and knowledge, Ultimecia made a grand mistake. The easiest way to dissemble a tower of cards is to remove the bottom layer. If Ultimecia had succeeded in killing the highest order of the world, she may have scarred man, but if she had removed the lowest echelon, she could have done anything.

        This is why if Balamb Garden as a collective wants to remedy a stockpiling plague, it must, for once, use mind over magic and muscle.


	2. The Cherry Red Walls of Balmb

The cherry red walls of Balamb 

        The sun set over Balamb for the fourteenth time in March. An aroma of barbequed fish shuffled out the congressing dew of the afternoon quietly. Fiodá, a beautiful bleach-blonde haired import from Esthar laced up her scarlet bikini and applied a fourth layer of eyeliner. Next door a drunken news-reporter beat a 'work associate' of hers unconscious. To say that you could buy truth in the night of Balamb would be an overstatement, but to say that you could hide the truth, that would warrant a different answer. And as sure to hell, a nameless mob-crow would pick up the tender, violated body tied to the end of the bed within an hour, and deposit it in a private quarry. Fiodá applied a fifth layer of eyeliner…

        Entering politics, Laguna Loire was an honest, decent man. Now he stood, as any leader; a deceitful, conniving machine. Many close to him say that this is through no fault of his own, that it was a case of scumbags and corporate ass-kissers secretly manipulating him until he became one of them. A year ago Laguna Loire wouldn't have paid 2000gil for a suit. Now he sat wearing a 50,000gil shirt. 

        A buxom brunette entered Laguna's office. It was an in-house joke that if you had knockers, you needn't knock. A girl placed a file on Laguna's desk and flicked her hair back.

"This is the report on February's in-goings/out-goings." 

"I don't have time to go through it, could you just give me the gist please?" The girls name came to Laguna's head "Kirsty" 

The girl hid her disappointment with a mock-bashful smile. "Sure" She sat down and crossed her legs, but did so slowly.

"Overall we are losing money.  Crime is escalating and tourism is being hit by it. We need more police officers but we are having to let them go. We can't afford to hire SeeD's anymore"

Laguna picked up a pen and spun it between his fingers. "So what do the Office say?"

"We need to find other ways of enforcing the city, cheaply and successfully…and legally"

Laguna let the last word roll through his ears. "That will be all." Laguna did not rise. The kick-drum of his mind was beginning to pound…

        A bearded man wearing shabby clothes approached the street corner. He reached inside his coat pocket. He withdrew a set of 200gil notes and winked at Fiodá. She had wondered many times how her parents could throw her out on the streets like they did. She wondered many times how her boyfriend at the time, a black haired mechanic called Seth, could use her like he did. Fiodá no longer trusted other people. In her line of work she didn't have too. If the guys didn't want fucking they wouldn't acknowledge her…

        As he was given a Tonberry-Chill by a faceless druid a thought flash though Laguna's mind. It was six months at least since Laguna had last contacted Squall, who had been stricken with a degenerative disease which made moving out of his house as close to impossible as possible. Squall had risked his life to save Laguna and the people of the world, and had the scars to prove it. For all Laguna knew, Squall could be dead. 'Oh well…' Laguna muttered to no-one 'that's life' 


	3. False Light

False Light 

_'Gather round children and I will tell you a tale' A bearded man rambled in a busy street in central Balamb. 'A tale of a warrior of times forgotten'…_

        Although no-one was directly listening to him, those enjoying brunch at the nearby 'Quick Sip' café twisted an ear to the wino's toothless words.

_'I speak of a man called Squall, Squall Lionheart. A name you will have heard, but have probably forgotten. This man was the head of the SeeD team that travelled to the future to defeat Ultimecia. Is his story starting to come back to your caffeine-drenched brain?'_ The old man spoke with a venomous anger, but he dictated to thin air._ 'A year in our time after this happened Squall contracted a disaese while fighting a King Anacondaur._ _The medical name for this disease is **heili** **eitur**, but there is no need to digress. When you contract the disease your muscles gradually become weaker, until they are rendered useless. After a few years Squall had become unable to walk unaided, and he was forgotten be those around him. Now he lives as a stranger, someone his first and only true love wouldn't recognise…' _

        The man rubbed his eyes as if cleaning glasses. The early morning birds were fading into the sunset. The streets were a calypso of  yellow, oranges and browns, but the man cast a dense shadow across the people within earshot.

'Ask yourself a question. Why does this man deserve such punishment? Why should it be him that is crippled, and not you? Why should the people who try to make this world a better place suffer, while the bloodsucking leeches reap the benefits?'

        The man quietened. He reached for the walking stick to the side of him and helped himself up. He spoke again, but in a whisper…

' What did I do wrong?'


End file.
